Fair Game
by Voluptuous
Summary: COLLAB WITH SLEEP-SILENT! College life is never just about the grades. Grimmjow frequently finds something else on his mind, or someone else. But Ichigo's already taken? Pfft- since when has a little competition stopped him? YAOI. GrimIchiShiro.


Title- Fair Game.

Summary- COLLAB WITH SLEEP-SILENT! College life is never just about the grades. Grimmjow finds something else frequently on his mind, or _someone_ else. Unfortunately, Ichigo's already taken? Pfft- since when has a little competition stopped him?

A/N- This is an equal collaboration **sleep-silent** and i. She has contributed a lot to its creation, so it would be great if you would all go check her out and thank her! She's really great. She's planning on starting a new story that I've had the honour of beta-ing, so you should follow her too!

This is a yaoi story, so prepare yourselves for SMUT. And please leave a review! Tell us what you think! We are both eagerly awaiting your response; that's TWO people you can make really happy, with just ONE review! Sounds like a great deal to me? ;)

* * *

_"Sometimes you make choices in life and sometimes choices make you."_ — Gayle Forman.

* * *

All aboard.

We're going to college.

Excited?

No?

Neither am I.

Out of all the places I would end up after high school, college actually won out. I don't know if I'm happy or sad.

Just surprised I guess.

The most surprising thing had been the invite to a fraternity house, though. That definitely came out of the blue.

I didn't think I was smart enough for college, I didn't go the extra mile or anything like that. I simply got a diploma. That's all I need though, right? College is overrated anyway.

I guess I'll find out soon enough. According to the guy managing the intercom, we'll be there soon—one hour.

We're riding a train. A stupid fucking train. We've been going north for about six hours now; it's something that would take half as much time by airplane. Too bad airfare was too expensive. And it was only going to get worse from here. First I can't pay for airfare, next it's going to be books, then food. Unless I can get a job—because, you know, money helps.

I still don't know what I'm going to do when I get there, how I'll establish myself. I just hope it's not like high school. I can't deal with that.

I wonder who I'll meet. By the look of the passengers, I can see a few who are probably getting off with me; but they just look like duds. What a bummer. I guess college really isn't like in the movies. Oh well.

One more stop, just one more scoop of passengers climbing aboard. Then the campus and it's all new territory for me.

The train came to a jerking stop, the cabin settled and the people stirred; some looked around, then got up, freeing some seats that would soon be occupied. I stayed settled, seat reclined and eyes barely open. I watched half-heartedly as a small stream of people curiously scooted down the aisle. Many more youthful faces joined than at the last stops. Maybe someone interesting would show up.

Who cares anyway? I don't. You can't really expect much in certain situations, you know? So, I'm pretty sure trains fit under that category.

I closed my eyes instead and figured I'd suffer through this last stretch of land then head to my dorm and sleep the day away.

"Excuse me."

I really didn't want to open my eyes. "What?"

"Do you mind?"

I reluctantly lifted an eyelid, and stared into a pair of earthy brown eyes framed by ginger lashes. The youth leant over me: peachy lips upturned coyly, freckled cheeks tinted and rosy, and bright-fucking-orange bangs that hung like fire, falling past his collarbones, yet flaring wildly at the same time.

That colour though! Persimmon orange, vermillion orange, pumpkin orange, tangerine orange, burnt orange, traffic-cone orange, sunset orange- whatever you wanted to call it, it was amazing.

And let's not forget those lovely collarbones peaking out from the neckline of the extra-large shirt he drowned in, as that delectably lithe torso gave way to mile long legs, hugged tightly by dark jeans and dirty combat boots.

He looked like he was in his early twenties; alluring, fresh, intelligent with an irresistible dose of charm.

This kid was fucking hot. I was not prepared for that and I caught myself gawking—but not before he'd caught me. His eyebrows lifted up, eyes dimmed. I was awarded an unimpressed glare. Oops.

Glancing at the vacant seat to my left, then back at him, I shook my head in response.

It didn't take him long to get settled. When he did, he pulled out his phone and some ear buds. Reclining his seat to match mine, and listening to music, I assumed. It didn't last long though, no sooner than two minutes later he was sitting back up and pulling his ear buds out.

He just stared. I didn't blame him if he was trying to get back at me for earlier, but what the fuck?

"What's your name?" He asked simply. I sat there confused before answering.

"Grimmjow." I stated flatly.

"Nice hair Grimmjow," He praised, voice lingering on the strange syllables. "Is that natural?"

"Completely." I rolled my eyes, exasperated. So it's the hair, I should have guessed.

Did i mention my hair was blue, of all things? There was probably a million ways to describe it too, especially since it changed colours when wet. I didn't have the right to be so impressed with Ichigo's fiery head of hair, when my own was as blue as the sky.

"I'm Ichigo," he put his hand out to shake. "Are you on your way to the university?"

"I am."

Then I tried not to be flat, so I flashed a half smile and glanced at his eyes—sultry brown, innocent eyes. I liked them.

"Same," he huffed a quick breath and sat back in his seat. "Well, maybe I'll see you around, Grimmjow."

Oh, God, why did you let him exist? I thought perfection wasn't real? I mean, just the way he said my name made me all fidgety, what the hell.

Maybe I _will_ see him around.

Or not.

"Hello?" He spoke, phone to his ear.

He blushed suddenly. "Yeah I'm… Shut up…I know but…" Who could he be talking to?

Ducking his head and smiling, the crimson painted on his face deepened. Was he talking to a boyfriend or something?

"I'll be there soon, Shiro." He assured, voice practically a growl, clearly somewhat embarrassed.

He definitely had a boyfriend. I mean, his tone couldn't have been any more provocative.

I guess that should be obvious just by looking at him; being single wasn't possible with looks like those.

Oh well.

* * *

I thought college was going to be boring. I swear it wasn't like in the movies.

I was so wrong.

Sometime along that train ride, shit changed. I mean, it's only the first day. I've barely even settled into my dorm.

Then there's this guy. Skin as white as snow with hair to match, eyes gleaming a sparkly gold that bled into black around the edges.

He's fucking hot—maybe as hot as that Ichigo guy. And he's on top of me. At first I was pleased, but that changed too.

"Oh come on," he purred, voice breathy between the little kisses he was placing on my neck. "I saw you looking."

Okay, yeah, he was right I guess. But in my defence he was doing it on purpose. You know, making me look.

It all started immediately after I walked into the dorm. Apparently, the guy I'm sharing it with is a little proud of his appearance; considering his shirt was off for no reason. Right away my eyes fell to his ripped abdomen: tight abs, and corded arms to supplement. Then to his chest, expressing a pretty compelling tattoo: pitch black ink in the shape of a circle, like some kind of crevice. Out of it encroached thick black stripes, enveloping his shoulders and running over his defined collarbones.

Aside from the tattoos, this guy had so many fucking piercings. Silver hoops gripped his lower lip and when he talked I caught a glimpse of a silver stud on his tongue. I almost didn't catch the ones on his ear—more studs, black this time, decorated both ears. Although, for the most part, his silky white hair veiled them; it was so long, I swear it touched his ass.

Yeah, sure- he was hot. But when he opened his mouth all that went to shit.

He beckoned me, trying to tease, but he was just an ass. I made the mistake of playing along for too long; my eyes trailed his body enough times for him to tackle me apparently.

That's how it happened. That was all the initiative he needed to attack me with his libido. What was wrong with him?

"What the fuck, quit it!" I yelled, pushing him by his shoulders. Man, he was set on getting his way. Because of that, I was set on getting him off me. Who did he think he was?

Finally, he got off. Although it wasn't my doing; his phone rang and he practically dove for it. This guy was a joke; he was so animated.

"Yeah, babe." He cheered, still trying to catch his breath. "I'm ready for ya… room six." He hung up soon after that.

Great, another one is coming.

"Shirosaki," he grinned, holding out his hand; a gesture I ignored. " 'Er, Shiro." He persisted, hand still out.

I warily shook his hand, hoping he'd leave me alone if I did.

"Grimmjow," I growled. "Look, could you… I dunno… not pull that shit again?"

He sucked his teeth and narrowed his eyes. "By all means." It was comical seeing the way he handled rejection.

Enough of that though, there was a shy knock at the door, Shirosaki leaped to it and swung it open—a giant smile on his face as another guy walked in.

"Grimmjow?" Ichigo exclaimed, doe eyes lighting up in surprise.

Hey, it's Ichigo.

"Oh, it's you. Hey."

Shirosaki cut in, one hand on his sharply cut hips. "You guys know each other?" He asked accusingly.

"I saw him on the way here. We talked, but that's about it." Ichigo shrugged, oblivious as he set his bags down.

Wait a second.

Are these two dating?

Shirosaki must be who Ichigo was talking to on the train—_Shiro_—oh, yeah.

So, Ichigo is dating _him_. Why? He's an ass. And he totally came onto me. Does he not know that this fucker is a huge prick?

* * *

The world works in funny ways.

Sometimes it feels big, and sometimes it doesn't. Right now it feels tiny. Coincidence will do that, I suppose.

I thought the blue-haired guy with the sapphire eyes was just a passing moment, but I have a feeling I will be seeing a lot of him, especially considering he's sharing a room with my boyfriend.

Yep. That's right.

Shirosaki is my boyfriend, of three years and two months to be exact. But we've known each other a lot longer. There is no cutesy love story of how our relationship bloomed—we've simply been best friends for as long as I can remember, inseparable, joined at the hip.

Therefore, it only seemed natural when we took the term '_joined at the hip_' to a more literal level.

One thing led to another, and our comfortable cohabitation soon evolved into something more, yet not much different. Only, it was much less healthy. We had unknowingly developed a complete dependence on each other, and a noxious addiction. An _addiction _that hadn't been fed for too long, since we'd been separated all holidays.

I returned a slight smirk as i met his brazen golden eyes, before finally noticing his blatant lack of clothing.

"Where's your shirt?" My smirk was flipped in an instant. "I know you only got that tattoo recently, but you don't have to show it off all the damn time." I stormed past him to begin unpacking the bags he'd dumped by his bed.

"Che…" he crossed his arms and pouted, "I was just getting ready for you, _darling_. I know how you love to see these babies." Shiro flexed his thin arms to kiss the hard muscle, before I threw a white shirt across his face.

"Not everyone wants to see your pathetic guns, Shiro. I'm sure Grimmjow doesn't." I countered light-heartedly, with a conspiring wink in Grimmjow's direction. He seemed a bit uncomfortable between our banter.

"You're so mean! Anyone would think our love was doomed with the way you treat me, Ichi." Shiro sighed dramatically and collapsed across the bed I was leaning before. In a flurry of white hair he rolled, propped on his elbows as he leant over to watch me unpack.

"Says the one who refuses to unpack his own bags." I snorted, throwing his assortment of tight jeans. "Who's mean to who in this relationship?"

"Oh but you like it." He purred, licking his lips as our foreheads bumped together, and I was staring straight into seductive golden eyes, swimming in a sea of inky black.

"A-Anyway," I stuttered, averting my eyes and stumbling backwards. "I have to go unpack my own things."

Which was entirely true; I hadn't found my own room yet, or met my roommate. I hoped I was as lucky as Shiro in that regard; Grimmjow seemed like a nice guy, understanding too.

Unfortunately, I only made it halfway to the door, before surprisingly strong arms wrapped around my midsection. Shiro's firm chest moulded with mine, and I swear I could feel every one of his perfect abs.

His warm breath tickled my neck, as his hands began to wander.

"Leaving so soon?" he whispered, those devious hands finding the sensitive nipples beneath my shirt as his hips rolled into my backside. I couldn't help the slight hitch in breath, or the glaze that fogged my eyes and mind.

"Sh-Shi, not here." I protested as a shiver ran up my spine at his insistence. A shiver of weakness. I grit my teeth as I held back my desire, the fear of embarrassing myself before our guest quickly becoming a dull tug at my mind.

"Why not? It's my room." One of his hands dropped beneath my pants, and I realized in horror that he was consciously provoking me. He was trying to bring out that immoral personality lurking beneath my surface.

"Quit it you horny bastard!" I managed to free myself from his embrace. "Grimmjow's here! You can't just do what you want." Then I turned on my heel with finality, intent on making it to the door, despite my trembling knees.

I almost made it. I was so close! But he was upon me in another second, spinning and pinning me to the wall next to the door, pierced lips attacking mine, and studded tongue sweeping my mouth.

It took him no more than three seconds, using his lips and hands as I flailed uselessly, to bring me to the point of no return. His lips left me disoriented, face flushed, stomach coiled and eyes darkened; all so Shiro could turn to share his empowering eyes with his roommate.

"Grimmjow doesn't mind, does he?" Shiro asserted.

I couldn't see the glance they exchanged as Shiro leant over me, hands still moving over my body. I did however, catch a glimpse of the snarl across Grimmjow's lips as he stalked from the room, barely shy of slamming the door behind him. But soon, all thoughts of him were swept from my mind with Shiro's next dominating kiss.


End file.
